Monday, December 14, 2015

No Deep Couch Sitting

That commercial makes me laugh...the dad that goes to sit on the couch only to get right back up to clean up another mess his young son and friends have made. He says that he doesn't have time for deep couch sitting.

Life is like that.  There isn't much time for deep couch sitting.  For so many of us we made the mistake of thinking we had it.  We just had to add to it as we went along.  But then, a death happens or a divorce.  In the case of the death, you are missing that other person but you have everything that you both had collected along the way.  With a divorce, some of the things you have collected for your life along the way gets split up or just goes one way or the other.

For death or divorce of a spouse there is one thing in common...you lose that person you searched so long for...the one that you thought would complete you.  If you are the one left behind, it is a confusion:  what happened?  Could I have done something to prevent the loss?

If it is the death of a spouse, they didn't choose to leave you.  You can still hang on to the idea that they loved you until the end...and into eternity.  With divorce, they chose to leave you.  The love just stopped,  The silence that is left by the empty place is deafening to the soul.    You don't understand how you could love someone so completely and they don't get it...or don't want it.  They chose you at one point...why did they 'unchoose' you?

People go through changes in life.  You never stop growing and learning.  Perhaps what they learned or found did not have a space for you.  Perhaps like repainting a room, the couch no longer matched.  The other person repainted their world and you didn't match.  Maybe you repainted your world too but made sure that the other person would still match because they were your favorite piece.  Someone wanted something totally different while the other person was content with most of what they had already.

You find yourself waiting for someone else to come along that thinks you will match their world.  But, they have to fit into yours too.  The only problem is, you may be looking for something that is almost identical to what you lost.

Then there comes a time when you have a project and you have certain things you need to complete the project.  You think you don't need to buy anything because over the years you have collected all of that stuff.  Then, in the midst of it, you find that you do NOT have everything you need because some of what was collected went with the other person...it left with them.

Then another sadness sets in as you realize that along with the most important piece of the setting of your life is gone and other little accessories.  The little accessories can be more easily replaced but it isn't the point.  It is just another reminder that your life was taken apart.  "Things We Lost in the Fire"...because it feels like a never ending burning inside.

I have heard so many couples say that the secret to a long marriage is to never give up.  And that you have to respect the other person, value them, appreciate them and also realize that the biggest part of it is being comfortable.  They know each other...all the little pieces and parts.  It is like deep couch sitting or curling up with a warm fuzzy blanket.  It just is.

I guess I thought that is what my marriage would be...that comfort.  I was okay with it in a lot of ways.  We did not understand or communicate very well.  I did not put enough effort into the right places but I took for granted that it was always going to be worked on.  Maybe that was it...like my favorite stretched out, worn out sweatshirt it would just always be there.  I could make changes to my world but I would never change it so much that my favorite sweatshirt no longer fit in.

I just didn't notice that I was not fitting into someone else's world anymore.

Then again, maybe I never did.


1 comment:

Ron Friesen said...

Good self-awareness. You might want to read some books on this growth stage in Gerald May, The Dark Night of the Soul.